Flat 51

~Harry

“I’m home!!” Emily called dramatically as she entered the flat. Well, I should say she sashayed into the flat like a damn princess. I hadn’t seen her since I’d chosen to walk away from her brother rather than flatten him, and I was impressed to say the least. She had curled her hair, accenting her high-set cheekbones and full lips. Damn her for being so fucking gorgeous.

I stared at the telly, trying to ignore the way her white lace dress complimented her ass, and the way those brown sandals made her legs look damn near perfect.

“You’re ignoring me? Inconceivable!” she exclaimed just as she threw a bag of marshmallows at my head. I growled, throwing it back, but it had the opposite effect of my intentions. She giggled and dodged just in time, then ripped it open and began firing off marshmallows at me. I laughed as I threw one back and hit her right in the face. “Oh, you’re getting it now!” she cried, jumping over the counter and heading straight for me. She jumped on the couch next to me and suddenly I felt cold covering my face. I wiped my eyes and laughed, realizing she’d covered me in whipped cream. I wrestled it from her grip and pushed the nozzle, filling her mouth and showering it all over her face.

“Ha, you’re pinned!” I laughed, holding her wrists to the ground with my knees and resting my weight on her stomach. She coughed, spitting out the cream and laughing at the same time. I could get used to this view…

“No fair! You’re bigger than me!”

“Well I can’t help that,” I replied, wiping the remaining cream from my face. She giggled awkwardly, trying to squirm out from under me. “Um, you have it um, in your shirt,” I stuttered, trying not to look at the cream dripping down the slightly low neckline of her dress. She froze and stared at me, making me want to hide in a closet. Or maybe kiss her until she begged me to stop.

“Well, um… my hands are pinned,” she whispered, as if it was a secret. I jumped up and hastily pulled her to her feet. If I’d stayed on top of her like that any longer I’d have taken her right then and there. I watched her giggle and stroll to her room, but that’s the problem. I was only watching. I wasn’t doing.

I sucked in a breath when I realized she’d left the door open a crack, and I could see her pulling her dress over her head. I came closer to the crack and watched her as she took a pair of small shorts and a tank top out of a drawer. Holy shit. She was fucking perfect. Her stomach wasn’t completely flat, but whose was, in reality? Her legs were smooth and tan, sending chills down my spine when I imagined them wrapped around me.

“HARRY!” she screeched, turning and attempting to cover her bra-covered chest and anything else her arms could block. I snickered at her reaction, used to girls playing it up and wanting me to see them. She obviously didn’t. I madly ripped my shirt off and threw it into my room as heat flushed through my body. I walked back into the living room, praying that it wasn’t obvious how damn turned on I was. She skipped out of her room with an odd expression on her now-clean face. She almost looked pleased… She didn’t comment on the fact that I’d been peeking at her half naked, but instead grabbed a box of left-over pizza from the fridge and flopped down on the couch next to me.

“That was lady-like,” I joked as she put her feet up on the coffee table.

“Screw off, peeping Tom,” she giggled. “Hey! Let’s have tacos! I haven’t had them in forever! There’s a joint down the street that delivers. How many do you want? I’d say I’ll eat about five. Well, maybe you should restrict me to four, so I don’t get sick.”

“I don’t care, whatever.” She flashed me a cheesy grin and dialed the Mexican restaurant. “Hello? Yes, I’d like twenty-five tacos. Yep. Can I get four two liters with that? Yeah, um… let’s do Mountain Dew, Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, and Mountain Dew Voltage. And can I get a small Black Label? Thanks! The address is 10 Parker St., apartment 51. Thanks!” She ended the call and pranced back to the couch. “They said it’ll be here in twenty minutes.” What the hell? Who eats that much?

“Emily, that’s a shit-ton of food. Neither of us are going to eat that much.”

“I know. We can survive on the left-overs for like a month,” she giggled. What is her logic? Who thinks like that?

“I assume I’m paying half?”

“You don’t have to. I ordered too much, you’re only going to eat a little of it.”

“I’m paying half.”

“Ok.” Finally, about half an hour later, the doorbell rang, sending Emily flying clumsily down the hall. Suddenly she sprawled out on the floor as her foot caught on the stand against the wall.

Notes

I've never written a food fight scene before... Weird thing to notice, but it was fun. I would definitely love having a marshmallow and whipped cream food fight. I'm hungry now... Also, Whisky Lullaby makes me cry. If you haven't heard it, listen to it.